When Oscar Wilde Wrote “there Are Moments When One Has To Choose Between Living One’s Own Life,

hey guys so like apparently the characters from “its rotten work / not to me, not if its you” are cousins so maybe lets stop framing that in a romantic light and grouping that quote with those edits about love and stuff like that =(

quiz: are you hamlet, or are you horatio?

“You ruin your life by desensitizing yourself. We are all afraid to say too much, to feel too deeply, to let people know what they mean to us. Caring is not synonymous with crazy. Expressing to someone how special they are to you will make you vulnerable. There is no denying that. However, that is nothing to be ashamed of. There is something breathtakingly beautiful in the moments of smaller magic that occur when you strip down and are honest with those who are important to you. Let that girl know that she inspires you. Tell your mother you love her in front of your friends. Express, express, express. Open yourself up, do not harden yourself to the world, and be bold in who, and how you love. There is courage in that.”

— Bianca Sparacino How To Ruin Your Life (Without Even Noticing That You Are)

when will we as a society branch out from white sheets for ghosts. where’s the self-expression, where is the drama. when will i get the couture bedsheet looks i deserve

me: say those three words and I’m yours

college library online database: full text available

august goals:

heal from relationships that went wrong

be happy about small victories

smile more

say nice thoughts about people out loud

begin a small project that I will work on every day of the month

stop thinking in an “all or nothing” way

not doing great?

clean your room

open curtains/windows

take a shower

put on clean clothes

get out of your room a bit

stretch

drink a glass of water

get the hard/important stuff out of the way while you have energy

set some (any!) goals

remember that it is okay to have bad days

playlists i made inspired by literature pt 1

sitting alone in your mansion, you nurse your glass of champagne, you lay back on the chaise lounge, a cigarette in hand. you look up at the mauled, grotesque portrait that was once so beautiful. it was painted for you hundreds of years ago,and yet you have not aged a day. “i’m so sorry basil” you murmur

the year is 1832 and you in are in paris, you have been planning a revolution along with your friends for almost a year now. there is a fire in your belly, a war in your mind and you are ready to die for your blessed france, ready to die among your best friends. 

everything in this school is old and beautiful, and the classics are truly coming alive here. you are drinking wine every night, practising your latin and concerning yourself with the most odd looking, most enchanting friendship group. rumours of murder and divine intervention follow you wherever you go. something in this school is dionysian and deadly. 

Polly Florence

Source.